


Worthy of Being Pleased: the Details

by honey_and_smoke



Series: Worthy of Being Pleased [2]
Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: All the sexy stuff I felt like writing about these characters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_and_smoke/pseuds/honey_and_smoke
Summary: Ten snapshots from Will and Elizabeth's relationship over its first decade-plus, sexy stuff included.(If you don't feel like reading the sexy stuff -- one man's mature is another man's explicit, after all — I'll provide a brief summary of what happened to my characters at the end of the chapter. I tried to give hints about what happened to everybody in these little snippets, and if you're like me, you love imagining what happened to the other characters in this love story.)
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Series: Worthy of Being Pleased [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063991
Comments: 17
Kudos: 107





	Worthy of Being Pleased: the Details

**ONE**

On the night of Charlie and Jane’s wedding, Will spirited Lizzie and a bottle of Champagne upstairs to a balcony facing the rear of Netherfield’s property. “This will be one of the nicest suites available to be booked,” Will explained. The room they walked through to get to the balcony doors was framed out, and Lizzie could see its potential. 

They went through the French doors leading outside. Lizzie breathed in the early June night, and Will popped open the bottle of Champagne and poured two fizzing glasses for them. They held up their glasses to toast, and Lizzie suddenly found herself shy. She looked down, and Will brought a few fingertips under her chin, and guided her eyes back up to his. “To us,” he said. “To us,” she echoed, and smiled. They drank deeply, and Will set the bottle on the ground. They walked over to the rail and watched the wedding guests on the terrace below for a few minutes, smiling at their joy. Will took Lizzie’s nearly empty glass from her and set it down on stone railing along with his own. 

He reached for her and gathered her up into his arms as they kissed, softly at first and then with increasing intensity. Lizzie unbuttoned his suit jacket and snaked her arms underneath and around him, tracing delicate patterns on the warm skin under his shirt. Will let out a groan and Lizzie sighed into his mouth. Will pulled back from the kiss and said, “You look beautiful. You always do, but today…” he trailed off and ran his fingers along the filmy fabric of her neckline, tickling the sensitive skin. 

Lizzie shivered and arched at his touch. “Oh, really? I always look beautiful, even when I’m dressed for winter site visits?” she teased him, kissing his neck and running her fingers through his hair. 

“You look the most beautiful then,” Will said, laughing and letting out a little groan while she worked his neck. “Huge wool jumper? All I want to do is pull it off and see what’s underneath.”

Lizzie laughed. “I swear I was never trying to tease you. Well, maybe with that purple dress at your birthday. I was trying that night. I wanted you just a little bit bothered.”

Will’s face got serious, and Lizzie felt the humour go out of the moment. There was only heavy lust in the air between them. He took her hand and led her over to a rattan chair against the wall. There was a folding table near it. “This is where I hide out for a quick bit of work when I come for a site visit,” he told her. He pulled off his suit jacket and dropped it onto the table. Will sank into the chair and pulled Lizzie down onto his lap. She twisted to place her mouth on his and began gently, probing, exploring, moaning. She could feel his hardness pressed against her outer thigh and in that moment, Lizzie decided that this was going to happen tonight. 

She stood up and took in the surprised look on Will’s face. “Patience,” she said, and smiled coyly. He leaned back and smiled at her, waiting to see what she’d do. Lizzie reached under her dress and pulled her knickers down, and the smile left Will’s face only to be replaced with a dark, hungry expression. She stepped out of her silver sandals, and walked back over to Will. Crouching down, Lizzie’s hands went to his belt buckle and she began to unfasten him. Will lifted his bum and pulled down his shorts and trousers until they fell around his ankles. Lizzie got a good look at his cock as it sprang free and took in a sharp breath. Will misunderstood and asked, “Do you want this?”

“I do,” she answered in a husky voice, and Will held his hand out for her to come back to his lap. Lizzie straddled him and once she was balanced on his thighs, she reached behind to unzip the top of her dress. She pulled her arms through the spaghetti straps, peeling the bust of the dress down. This exposed her strapless bra, and Will did the honours of unhooking her, and letting her breasts fall free. Her nipples hardened in the night air, and Will groaned at the sight of her in the moonlight. He threw the bra on the table along with his suit jacket and buried his face in her chest. “You’re beautiful, Lizzie.” She began to demur, and he looked up at her. “Listen to me,” Will said. “You are beautiful. I can’t believe this is really happening, that a woman as beautiful and ferocious as you is willing to give herself to me.”

Lizzie grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him. “Well, believe it,” she said, allowing him to come up for air. “This is real. I’m yours.”

Will bent his head to her chest, lightly licking and sucking her left breast while palming the right in his large hand, rubbing the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Lizzie let out a pleased moan, enjoying the sight of him worshiping her. She reached down for his stiff cock and began to inch closer to him, but Will stopped her. “Patience,” he said back with a smile, and she let out a huff, but smiled. He placed his hand on her left breast, massaging and pinching the nipple, and moved aside her skirt until his other hand found what it was looking for. Will groaned and said, “My darling girl, with your beautiful, warm, wet cunt.” 

Will dipped his fingers into her and brought some of her wetness to her clit, rubbing in small, gentle circles. Lizzie let out a whimper and to keep her balance, she placed her hands against his shoulders. She began to ride his hand and Will brought his mouth to hers again, kissing her roughly, holding her by the cunt and around the waist. Lizzie’s hips involuntarily jerked and she stopped her grinding against Will’s hand. “No, I need you. Right now. I need you inside me right now. That’s how I want to come. Riding you.”

Almost as soon the words were out of her mouth, Will disentangled his hand from Lizzie’s clit and began guiding her down onto his dick. He helped her lower slowly, let himself get fully covered in her arousal. “Lizzie, my love...oh my God…” Will began to murmur nonsense terms of endearment as she found her pace. He thought back to watching her ride her horse, and ran his hands up and down her strong thighs. Lizzie let out a hissing “Yes” and bit her lip lightly and Will had to close his eyes lest he finish right then and there. His Elizabeth -- Lizzie -- finally, after months of wanting her and seeing her like this in his mind’s eye, in his sleep. She moved her arms to the arms of the chair, using her fingertips for balance. It was exquisite.

Her orgasm came to her in stages. She tried to remember that there were dozens of people not too far away, laughing and dancing, but they’d still likely stop if they heard a woman screaming. Again she bit her lip and squeezed Will with the sides of her pussy. “Come for me, darling,” said Will. “Let it go.” And she did, her pace becoming erratic. Will watched in wonder for a moment, and then grabbed her hips, bouncing her rhythmically to find his own release. He came with a shudder, in several spurts, and it seemed to last for ages. He stopped guiding her hips, and sank back into the chair, catching his breath. Lizzie smiled down at him at the faraway expression on his face. When he finally came back to her, they locked eyes and laughed, delighted. 

Later, when they got dressed, laughing at their disheveled clothes and hair, Will noticed a small sprig of Baby’s Breath that had fallen from the small side braid in Lizzie’s hair. He picked it up and discreetly tucked it into his pocket. When he got back to his hotel room that night, he’d press it into a book for safekeeping.

**TWO**

Lizzie did concede to move to London with Will -- he was right. His little bumpkin was best off moving, with her work so much more flexible than his. Lizzie found she didn’t dislike city living as much as she thought. Will gave her free reign over the small neglected garden in the courtyard, and there were happy weekends with Georgie. Long city walks were fun in a different way than country walks. Jane and Charlie bought a larger place in Hammersmith. Caroline and Charlie had made a fragile reconciliation, but Charlie didn’t want anything to do with the Bingley townhouse anymore. Caroline bought out his share, and Charlie and Jane found a place big enough for a growing family. 

They were a close walk to Lizzie and Will’s place, and Lizzie was happy to be close to her darling little nephew Calum. When Will had first met Calum, he’d been terrified of holding him, was sure he would break the squalling infant. Now Uncle Will was baby Calum’s favourite person. When Will and Lizzie walked over from their townhouse in Kensington over to the Bingley’s, Will teased Lizzie over her jealousy. Lizzie usually just swatted his behind and rolled her eyes when he gloated like this.

They found an old nursery and garden center for sale on the outskirts of southwest London. Lizzie moved her landscaping business there, and Will’s renovated the greenhouse and attached office. She began taking more jobs in London, and started to build up a clientele for rooftop gardens -- the challenge of them delighted her. She boarded Marigold not far from the property, and often rode after work and on weekends. 

One afternoon in April, not quite a year after Lizzie and Will had gotten together, he’d gone on a week-long trip to a conference in Paris with Anne. It was the longest Lizzie and Will had been apart since she moved to London in Autumn. Before he boarded the plane in Paris to fly back to London, Will sent Lizzie a text asking her whereabouts -- at home or work? Lizzie texted back a picture of herself in the greenhouse, elbow deep in potting soil, smiling broadly. _I’ll come to you,_ Will texted back. _I missed you, love._

A few hours later, Lizzie was wrapping up her work on some newly emerging heirloom tomato seedlings. These would be bound primarily for the rooftop gardens of London yuppies and hipsters. She heard the door to the greenhouse being unlocked and turned expectantly toward the noise. Lizzie lit up when Will walked through the door, but he didn’t smile. He only rushed toward her and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her insistently. When he came up for air, Lizzie gasped out, “Wow, did you miss me?” She laughed, but Will’s eyes were serious. He took a step back and reached into the breast pocket of his coat. “Yes. I missed you so goddamn much, Lizzie.” He pulled out a jewellery box and dropped down to one knee, and in a shaking voice, asked “Lizzie, will you marry me? I love you. I hate being apart from you. Will you marry me?”

Lizzie’s mouth dropped open and her eyes flew back and forth between the open ring box and Will’s nervous, urgent expression. She recovered after a beat and gave a huge smile. Lizzie sank down to her knees to join Will on the hard-packed gravel and sand floor of the greenhouse. “Yes, Will. I love you, too,” she said through a huge grin. Will’s face finally relaxed, and Lizzie pulled off her gardening gloves, laughing. 

“I found this in an antique shop in Paris,” he said, tweezing the ring out of its holder. It was a teardrop cut emerald surrounded by miniscule clusters of diamonds on a gold band. “It made me think of you. I think we’ll have to resize it,” he said, sliding it onto her ring finger. “It’s just a little too tight, but I had to have it for you. The man in the store said it’s from the 30s.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Oh, God, I’m filthy,” she said, finally scanning her clothes. There was dirt under her nails and smears of dried mud on her arms.

“You’re perfect,” Will said laughing. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, and held it to her face to wipe a streak of potting soil from her cheek. “Come here, you dirty wench,” he said laughing. They kissed again, kneeling on the floor. 

“When should we get married?” Lizzie asked, pulling back and smiling over at him.

“As soon as possible,” Will said, reaching over and squeezing her left hand, looking at the ring. “Name the day, I’ll be there early.”

Will stood up and held his hand out to Lizzie. He pulled her up and kissed her. “Did you lock the door?” She asked, breathing heavily against his neck. Will murmured that he had. People had a tendency to wander in off the street, thinking they had plants for sale, when really, it was just Lizzie’s workshop at this point. Lizzie hopped up onto the metal counter and Will fit himself between her legs. “Did you design the counters to be hip-height for yourself?” Lizzie laughed and wrapped her arms around Will’s neck. “I can’t pretend it didn’t occur to me,” he said, pulling off his jacket and smiling.

**THREE**

Mrs. Bennet had been dying to throw the wedding at Longbourn, but Lady Catherine strongly suggested Rosings. Will insisted Pemberley would be best, but as a consolation to Mrs. Bennet, he had her come and visit for a week, helping Mrs. Bell with the planning. Lizzie took the approach of delegating only things she was indifferent to. The things that were non-negotiable: the flowers and the music. For Will the only thing that was non-negotiable was Lizzie. Anything else was fair game. 

They’d had about 100 guests for the ceremony, and many of them had stayed at Pemberley. They asked the same coordinator Jane and Charlie had used, and Mrs. Bell was grateful and delighted for the help, particularly after having Mrs. Bennet foisted upon her. It was a beautiful September day, nearly two years to the day after Will and Lizzie met. Jane and Georgie stood up for Lizzie. Charlie and Anne stood up for Will. Mr. Bennet wept as he walked Lizzie down the aisle of the old parish church. When Will thought back to the dress, he could only remember spaghetti straps leading down to a v-neck, and a diaphanous skirt of filmy white fabric that skimmed the ground, and pearls. Pearls at her lovely throat, in her ears, and even tucked into her hair. Lizzie did wear a veil and Kitty worked with it. She carried a spray of white flowers tucked with trailing greenery. Later she showed him how the dominant flower in the bouquet was Sweet William, that she picked it for him. 

The day went by in happy flashes -- holding Lizzie tightly on the dance floor, Charlie’s happy, rambling toast, hunting Mr. Bennet down in the library when they couldn’t find him for dinner. For their honeymoon they went to Lake Como, to the Fitzwilliam villa belonging to Richard’s father, Uncle Reg. Will hadn’t been since he was in university, and his Italian was rusty, but they managed. Their days fell into a predictable routine -- Lizzie walked to the village every other day for fruit, vegetables, and bread, they took out Uncle Reg’s sailing dinghy, and they talked about the wedding day, trying to cement the happy flashes into their brains. 

One day on the sailboat, Will dropped anchor in a quiet section of the lake. The late afternoon heat was at its peak, and Lizzie had been swimming around the boat, enjoying the warm water. Will was not as confident a swimmer as she was and kept an eye on her at all times, though he tried not to hover. When she’d finally had enough, her limbs happily exhausted, Will helped her climb back into the boat, handing her a towel. “Are you finally tired, Little Fish?” Will asked her, smiling at the picture she made trying to shake water from her ear. 

“Finally, yes. And I’m starving! I could eat a horse.” Lizzie gave up trying to dislodge the water and plopped down onto the bench opposite Will in the stern. 

“I could eat _you_ , you look so good,” Will said. 

“Could you now,” Lizzie said, giving him a coy look. It was all the encouragement Will needed. Glancing around to see if there were any other boats, he lunged at her. Lizzie let out a little screech and allowed Will to pull her onto his lap. “Oh, I’m all wet,” she said. Her bathing suit bottom was soaking Will’s dry trunks. 

“Well, we should get you out of that suit. That’s a good first start,” he said, his voice low. Lizzie scanned the water for nearby boats, and when she found none, she locked eyes with her new husband and pulled down her bathing suit straps. She peeled herself out of the suit, and Will drank in the sight of her in the late afternoon sun. Standing up, carefully maintaining his balance, Will helped Lizzie lay down on the bow of the boat. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching him through half-lidded eyes. 

“Are you going to watch me, Lizzie? Are you going to watch and see how I love to kiss you here?” Will asked, and Lizzie let out a little “mm-hmm”. She was throbbing. 

Will began slowly. He pushed her thighs open, and kissed his way slowly toward her center, not breaking eye contact with his darling new wife. When he bent his head to her opening, giving her one long lick, Lizzie sighed and threw her head back. He lifted his head and said, “No, watch me, Lizzie. I want you to see how much I love to eat you.” Lizzie shivered at his insistent tone and watched as Will went to work. 

He bent his head again and spread her apart with his thumbs. He lapped the bottom of her clit, a spot where he knew she loved attention. When Lizzie cried out, Will’s eyes went up to hers. They made eye contact, and he smiled against her cunt, causing her to laugh. He focused on her clit, working it in small circles, and languorously pumping two fingers in and out of her. The rhythm of the water lapping the boat changed when wake from a far off speed boat finally hit them, and Lizzie let out a desperate moan. “More,” she told Will. He obliged her by pumping faster and applying more pressure with his tongue. Lizzie began to pant and gasp, and casting one more glance at her, Will began to rhythmically suck her clit. Lizzie came quickly and all at once, collapsing her head backward onto the bow. Will gave one more long, feather-light lick of her slit, and came up to lay beside her. 

He knew her breasts were always sensitive after she came, so he trailed a fingertip in light swirling patterns around her nipples. Lizzie shivered and came down from her high. Will was propped up on one elbow, watching her. She finally turned to look at him. “What did I ever do to deserve you? You’re rich, handsome, kind, and give incredible head,” Lizzie said. Will laughed and covered her naked body with his. “You must have done someone a good turn in a past life,” he said. 

**FOUR**

Will paced around the kitchen of their townhouse, looking for all the world like a caged animal. Lizzie watched him from her seat at the kitchen island, drinking a mug of ginger tea, and letting him finish ranting. “She’s too young to get married! I can’t allow this!” 

“Sweetie, she’s 22. She’s not too young. She’s younger than I’d wish, but Aiden is a decent man. He loves Georgie.” 

“She’s going to be a _barrister_ , Lizzie,” Will said. “She can’t be distracted. What if she gets pregnant?” 

“Oh, wouldn’t that be terrible,” Lizzie said, rubbing the swell under her shirt. 

“You know what I mean. You’re a 34 year-old woman. She’s a child!” Will was running his hands through his hair. He stopped suddenly, and turned to look at Lizzie. “Oh my God, what would my father say? And I introduced her to the little fucker!” Will thought back to the Darcy & deBourgh Christmas party. He remembered the little look on Georgie’s face when she met their newest architect, and the way they’d found a corner for themselves and chatted only to each other for the rest of the night. Only a year later, here they were. _Engaged._

"Well, he works for you — it’ll be easier to kill him if you keep him close,” Lizzie interjected casually, adding more honey to her tea. “God, I hate ginger tea. I feel like I’m drinking Thai food.” 

Will finally stopped his rant and walked over to Lizzie. He knelt down in front of her and put his head against her belly. They’d been trying for two years now. This pregnancy was healthy and strong — they’d finally gotten reproductive assistance, where the endocrinologist had determined that Lizzie’s ovulation wasn’t regular. Jane had recommended ginger tea — she’d practically guzzled it while she was pregnant with their second child, a little girl named Abigail. Ginger was supposed to help with a myriad of pregnancy side effects, but it turned out Lizzie couldn’t stand ginger if it wasn’t sautéed into food. 

Lizzie scratched Will’s head, and he let out a resigned groan. “How are you feeling, my Love?” 

“Sick of ginger tea. I’d rather have a disgustingly large cheeseburger and heartburn.” 

“Burgers for dinner then,” Will said, heaving a sigh. “I don’t know what to do about Georgie.” He rocked back on his heels and looked up at Lizzie. 

“Look. Aiden is a kind young man. He works hard, you said so yourself. He’s got a lot of promise. And what matters is how he treats Georgie, and how she treats him back. They may not last. They may divorce. She may get pregnant too young and have to change her plans. Or they may be together forever. They may be a perfect match. It will most likely be something in the middle, like it is for everybody. So get your head right. Find out what you need to find out about their relationship so you can be a support.” 

Will was silent, considering her words. “Fine. That’s what we’ll do. Let’s go get you a disgustingly greasy cheeseburger and make an action plan to properly support Georgie...and _Aidan._ Blech.” Will stood up and smiled down at Lizzie. “You’re smart.” 

“I know,” she said. “I’m also hungry, and I know how long you can enjoy a good freak out, darling.” 

They went out for dinner and Will felt himself cool down under Lizzie’s calm questioning and light teasing. Georgie had emailed Will, not called him nor stopped by, to tell him about her engagement, and Lizzie posited that it was because she knew Will would be upset. Lizzie came up with the idea of going to Georgie’s apartment tomorrow with a giant bouquet of flowers and the best Champagne they could find. They would ask Aidan to join them, and ask millions of questions about their hopes and plans. They would listen and smile, and give zero advice. They would position themselves as a safe space for the young couple. All would be well. 

That night in bed, Will pressed into Lizzie from behind. He’d been terrified of sex with his wife early in the pregnancy — they’d had such bad luck, and although Lizzie’s pregnant belly excited him, he’d held back through the first two trimestres, only pleasing her with his fingers and tongue, encouraging Lizzie to do the same for him. At nearly eight months now, he felt more than safe. Tonight he wanted the kind of comfort that came from being with his wife. Lizzie lifted her nightshirt over her head and lay back down on her side. Will pulled off his pyjamas and nestled behind her again. He guided his cock into her warm waiting cunt, thrusting slowly, kissing her neck while she moaned and brought her fingers down to her clit. When Will felt her clench around his dick, he came. He stayed inside of her, but relaxed against her back, toying with her breasts, which had grown enormous from the pregnancy. “Do you feel okay now, Will?” Lizzie asked. 

“Better than ever,” he sighed. “It’ll be okay, right?” 

“It will,” she answered back, and reached back to pat his thigh. 

**FIVE**

Norah Anne Darcy was an easy baby. She was carted around to the family at Longbourn and Rosings quite frequently, and off to dinner with the Gardiners and the Bingleys at least once a week. She went happily to everybody in the family, but seemed to favour cousin Stella the most. She had her mother’s eyes and looked almost exactly like Georgie when she’d been a baby, but had dark hair like both of her parents. She had a deep belly laugh that made Lizzie feel nearly crazed with love. She was a snuggler, which could sometimes bring Will to tears. Particularly when she reached for him when he came home from work, opening and closing her chubby little fists and leaning out of her mother’s arms when she saw him. 

Lizzie eased back on work for the first year of the baby’s life, delegating the execution of her designs to a new assistant she’d hired. Georgie’s wedding to Aidan came and went, and the newlyweds were settled down nicely in a flat in Spitalfields. Georgie continued with school, much to Will’s relief. Aiden was primarily under the direction of Anne and her team of associates, so Will didn’t interact with him much at work, but he’d calmed down considerably where his new brother-in-law was concerned. He’d seen that Aiden’s intentions toward Georgie were born out of nothing but the highest love and respect. His little sister would be okay. 

Norah was 8 months, and Lizzie and Will decided they needed a break as a family. They rented a rustic cottage in Devonshire along the coast one August, choosing a place set far enough apart on its own property that the Darcys felt like they were alone on the planet. Which is exactly what they wanted: to press pause on their busy, loving, chaotic life for just a while. Lizzie let Will sleep in every day -- she was an early riser anyway. She loved silence in the early mornings as she came back to full wakefulness. During their days in the cottage, Lizzie would prepare coffee and watch the rising sun kiss the shore. She’d make a pot of steel cut oats for herself and Will, and pour a generous glug of cream on top of her bowl, then sprinkle it with brown sugar and cinnamon. She’d go wake Norah and breastfeed her, then offer her cut pieces of fruit at the kitchen table, which Norah gummed into a delightfully sloppy mess. Lizzie would leave a note on the counter for Will -- “The Darcy Women have set out to explore the shore, back soon” or “Have taken Norah to the farmer’s market. We shall return with a Chelsea bun for you, you adorable, sleepy bastard.” Will saved every single note as proof that his life really was this good. 

One day they were about to head down to the shore. Will had the bag of books and toys, and Lizzie had the blanket and umbrella. They had just slathered themselves and the baby with sunblock when Will’s phone rang. “Oh, it’s Anne. She doesn’t usually call, do you mind if I take it?” 

“No, not at all,” said Lizzie as she strapped Norah’s sunhat, tickling the baby under the chin and eliciting that deep belly laugh she adored so much. “We’ll head down to our spot, come soon. Give Anne my love, and tell her Norah sends a kiss.” 

Will answered “Hello” as Lizzie walked out the door, and immediately Anne was speaking breathlessly into the phone. “I’m freaking out, Will, I can’t believe I’ve done it.” 

Will’s stomach dropped. “What is it?” he blurted out, panicked. “Are you okay? Is it work?” 

“Oh, no, no, I’m sorry! The firm is totally fine.” Anne let out a whoosh of air. “I’m just freaking out and I need your opinion.” 

“Jesus, Anne, you’ll kill me. What is it?” Will put his hand up to his eyes. “What’s going on? You don’t freak out.” 

She mumbled something Will didn’t catch. “What did you say?” he asked. 

“I bought some sperm!” Anne said in a loud hiss. 

“Oh...what?” Will was quizzical. 

“I’m just ready to be a mum. I’m not having any luck dating, you know that. And I don’t want to wait anymore to have children. I’ve always known I wanted a family. I just have to do it in reverse order. I’m 38. It’s time. I’ve been thinking about it for the last half year, and I’ve finally just decided to do it.” 

“Wow...I didn’t know you were thinking about any of this. I’m really happy for you.” 

“Are you really?” Anne sounded relieved. “I just feel like Mum is going to go mad. It’s one of the things that’s been holding me back. But I’ve had my eye on this one guy, and last night I just went for it.” 

“What do you mean you had your eye on a guy?” 

“Sperm. You register with a sperm bank, and you select a donor from his profile online.” 

“Oh,” said Will. “What did you like about him?” Anne started rattling off the positive qualities this man had to offer. As he listened, Will walked over to the window and watched Lizzie jamming the umbrella into the sand and Norah crawling madly toward the water. Lizzie got the umbrella secured and scooped Norah up before she got more than a few feet away, spinning her around, then pulling her into a hug and kiss. In his mind, Will heard the squeal of happiness Norah must be making. He felt like his heart was going to split open. “I’m really proud of you,” he said suddenly, interrupting Anne as she talked about the donor’s height being just right -- tall enough, but not freakishly tall. 

Anne was quiet for a moment. “What makes you proud?” she finally asked. 

“You’re doing what you need to do to make the family that you want. That’s brave. I’m proud of you. And you have my full support. And I know you’ve got Lizzie’s, and Georgie and Aidan’s.” 

They worked out that Will would drive Anne for her procedure, and that Anne would come back to the Darcys’, as she was advised to relax for at least 24 hours after the procedure. Will vouched that he, Lizzie, and Norah would take care of her. Anne decided not to tell her mother until there was a successful pregnancy that survived into the second trimestre. “See,” Will said. “No need to freak out.” 

They hung up and Will walked around the room, thinking about what Anne’s decision. After a few minutes, he picked up the beach bag and headed down to his wife and child on the shore. 

Lizzie was bent at the waist holding Norah’s hands, helping her walk in the softly lapping water. It was already warm, and the breeze rippled the skirt of Lizzie’s swimsuit coverup. Norah was babbling and Lizzie was speaking back to her as if Norah made perfect sense. They turned around to make their way back toward the umbrella, and when Norah saw Will, she let out a screech of impatience. Lizzie laughed and scooped her up to walk back and hand Norah over. “She wants Daddy, enough of old Mummy,” Lizzie ran her hand over Norah’s back as she settled into Will’s arms. “How’s Anne?” 

Norah pointed again at the water. Will grabbed a set of cups from the beach bag -- one was a closed cup, and the other was a sieve that fit inside of the other. He set himself down in the water, holding Norah between his legs, helping her pour water between the cups, and making sure no fistfuls of sand made it into her mouth. Lizzie removed her coverup and sat down next to them and Will told her about Anne’s plans. Lizzie nearly clapped with delight -- Anne would be an incredible mother, and congratulated the decision to make her dream come true. “Oooh, what about Aunt Catherine, though?” Lizzie wondered aloud. 

“Anne won’t tell her until she’s pregnant and gets through the first three months,” Will offered. 

“That’s smart. But who knows? Old Lady Catherine could surprise us all…” Lizzie smiled. 

The Darcys played on the shore for a bit longer and Norah exhausted herself. Lizzie pulled out a “baby sleeping tent” that Will laughed at originally, but now wished he had invented himself. It had a mesh frame that allowed air to circulate but protected against blowing sand. While the baby slept in the shade of the umbrella in her little tent, Will ran up to the house for sandwiches and drinks. Lizzie and Will ate, read, and waded in the water while keeping an eye on the baby. When Norah woke, Lizzie picked up the fussing child and peeled down the strap of her bathing suit. The baby latched on, and Lizzie tried to get comfortable as she was seated. Wordlessly, Will got up and sat behind her, allowing her to lean back against his chest. “Thanks, love,” said Lizzie, and they watched the gulls swoop. 

That night in bed, Lizzie climbed on top of Will. He reached up and pulled her hair out of its messy bun and her dark glossy hair spilled down her shoulders and to her clavicle. He put his hands on her hips and helped her ride him until she came. He rolled her over and began to thrust into her, slow, almost torturously slow. Lizzie whined a bit and wrapped her legs around him, urging him to go faster and harder. He obliged her, angling himself in just the right way, and she came again, and Will found his release. He collapsed next to her, and looked over into her eyes. “Sometimes I can’t believe I was ever so stupid,” he said. 

“How so?” Lizzie pulled the light blanket up over herself and Will put his hand on her stomach, stroking with his thumb. 

“Just, look at all we have. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I can have all this -- you, Norah, the job, my family. Some people have so little. I can’t believe that I held myself back from you all those years ago. What if we’d never gotten together? What if you hadn’t forgiven me for acting like such an arse whenever I was around you?” 

Lizzie put her hand over his. “What if you hadn’t forgiven me for being so resentful? You’ll drive yourself mad if you go down that line of questioning. All that matters is we’re here now, that we were both smart enough to let that shite go. Only think of the past as it gives you pleasure.” She guided his hand up to her breast and Will laughed. “You’re a minx. All I want to do is ruminate on cosmic inequity and all you want to do is shag me.” 

Lizzie rolled over and kissed him. “I don’t know why we get so much, you and I,” she said more seriously. “I don’t know why I’ve been blessed to have a partner who loves me so totally and completely, when other deserving people never find a good match. I don’t know why we have enough money to do whatever we want, to quit working and go swan around Ibiza for half the year, or wherever fancy people go these days. But we owe it to others to help them find happiness where they can, and to enjoy our own happiness.” 

They slept intertwined that night. 

**SIX**

“Look, we didn’t take Norah over to Jane and Charlie’s so you could waste a date night being an arsehole, William!” Lizzie was furious with Will -- Norah had become a bad sleeper, always climbing out her crib, and Lizzie was working on getting her acclimated to a “big girl bed”. To impose a toddler on another family, even if they were willing, was a big favour. And now Will was acting like an entitled git and Lizzie didn’t even know why. 

They’d just come in from parking the car after leaving an event early. Will had been stiff and silent for the last hour, until finally Lizzie had said in exasperation, “Look, you’ve clearly got a stick up your bum. I don’t know why you’re sour, but we shouldn’t stick around if you’re going to act like a prat.” Lizzie had remembered Will’s behavior at the Harvest Festival all those years ago, and decided to get her husband out of the event before he pissed anybody off. 

He hadn’t loosened up in the car on the way home. His jaw had only gotten tighter, his expression more grim. Once they got into the kitchen, Lizzie pulled off her high heels and turned to him. “I hate it when you freeze me out like this! If you’re angry, then say why you’re angry!” 

Will looked at her, and his shoulders slumped, but he stayed silent. 

“Fine,” said Lizzie. “Good night.” She flounced out of the room, and Will heard her stomping up the stairs. 

They had been at an award banquet where Darcy & deBourgh was to be honoured in the category of Outstanding Historical Preservation of a Residence. Will was representing the firm as Anne was near the end of her maternity leave with her sweet little son Henry. They’d taken up two tables with their architects and support staff, and the evening had been going well. Adam Clarke, the architect Lizzie had met all those years ago at Will’s birthday at Pemberley, won an award that Will had also been up for as an individual. After dinner, when the event opened up to music and dancing, Will lost sight of Lizzie as he chatted with colleagues. Eventually, he saw her talking animatedly with Adam. She’d been beautiful in her green one-shouldered cocktail dress -- it was Will’s favourite colour on her. 

Will had watched as Adam gestured to the dance floor, and how Lizzie smiled as she accepted. It was a fast dance, but Adam had held her in his arms, moving and spinning her while Lizzie laughed. Will felt like he hadn’t seen her lit up like that for him in ages, and he was irrationally, deeply, sickeningly jealous. Adam had no need to hold her so close -- he barely knew Lizzie. And Lizzie could have pushed him further away at any moment. Why didn’t she? Adam had delivered Lizzie back to Will, flushed and laughing at the exercise. Will had stiffly congratulated him on the award, and Lizzie seconded him. Adam shook hands with Will, beaming. He leaned over to drop a kiss on Lizzie’s cheek and bid them both good-bye. 

Will felt like a right bastard. He should have asked his wife to dance, should have apologized, should have spoken up. But he found himself almost mute with confusion at his reaction. He caught sight of his reflection in the dark window over the sink, and it roused him into action. He ran up the stairs after Lizzie. He found her in her walk-in closet, removing her jewellery. She looked over at him, as haughty as a queen. “Yes,” she asked primly. 

“I was jealous,” Will said in a small voice. 

The look on her face changed from disdain to total confusion. “About what?” she asked. 

“Adam Clarke.” 

She wrinkled her nose, and repeated, “Adam Clarke? Why? Because he won in your category? You know that’s silly. And ungenerous, frankly! You’ve won that award before. Win some, lose some. That’s not like you.” 

“No, the way he held you,” Will mumbled. 

Watching Lizzie’s face could be like watching an opera -- the emotions were clear and captivating. Will watched as her expression went from angry to loving in a matter of seconds. “You were jealous because of the way he held me, while we were dancing?” she asked incredulously. 

Will nodded. Lizzie dropped her earrings into the tray on top of her dresser. She walked over to her husband slowly, purposefully, never breaking eye contact. “Do you think I want Adam Clarke?” she whispered, putting her arms around his neck. Will shook his head. 

“That’s right. There’s only one man in the world I will ever want,” Lizzie said, standing on her tiptoes, whispering in his ear. Will felt his cock twitch. His hands went to her breasts, but she stopped him, and dropped her heels back to the floor. She turned, pulling her hair over one shoulder, and looking at Will over the other. Her eyes flicked down to the zipper of her dress, and Will reached out tentatively and pulled it down. Lizzie slipped it off her shoulder and let it drop to the ground. She was wearing green lace knickers and a black strapless bra. Will watched as she slowly removed unhooked the bra and threw it to the side. Will was completely hard and standing at full attention now. 

Lizzie pushed him back against the wall of the closet. She reached down and unbuckled his trousers and belt and let them fall to the ground. Lizzie took his cock in her hand, giving him a few smooth, firm open-handed strokes. Will groaned and closed his eyes, and Lizzie leaned toward his ear again. “I want you. All the time. Always,” she said. Will looked at her, her eyes intense in the face of his need. She let go of his cock and grabbed him by the suit lapels, pulling him into a deep, wet kiss. She then sank down to her knees, dragging her breasts against him as she went. She felt her nipples harden, and she was now as aroused as earlier she had been irritated. 

Lizzie held Will’s dick in her hand, not quite able to close her fist around it. She’d had years to get to know his lovely, large cock -- the way it turned slightly upward when erect, the dark purple-toned flesh and the finely creased flesh and veins. She leaned down to kiss the head, wetting it with her tongue, teasing him. His hands went to her hair and he tangled his fingers into her loosely curled locks, moaning and hissing as she began to bob her head up and down. Her right hand and mouth worked in tandem as she sucked, and her left hand stroked and cupped his balls gently. After a couple of minutes, she increased her speed and was rewarded with a few drops of come. She moaned as she tasted it, and Will dropped his hands from her hair, bracing himself against the wall. She went deeper and faster, and when she heard her husband grunt, she knew he was there. Lizzie drank him down. 

While he panted against the wall and recovered, Lizzie sat back on her heels. She twisted a lock of hair around a finger, and fiddled with it, a silly little move that she knew drove Will crazy. When he finally opened his eyes and looked at her, he could do nothing but drop to his own knees and kiss her. “I didn’t deserve that, Lizzie. I deserved a kick in the arse. Why’d you do it?” 

Lizzie put her hands on his thighs. “Because no man could ever even hope to compare with you, Will Darcy. Next time you get jealous of me dancing with somebody else, or of some bloke paying attention to me, remember what I just did. I belong to you.” She stood up, and Will’s eyes hungrily followed her as she exited the closet for the bedroom. 

“And you belong to me, so get in here,” she said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. Will scrambled to his feet and followed Lizzie, ready to make it up to her all night long. 

**SEVEN**

When Mr. Bennet had his cardiac episode, Mrs. Bennet fainted. Fortunately, Lydia was home at the time, visiting from London. She stepped into swift action and rang 999. Lydia stayed on the phone with the medical professionals while an ambulance came to Longbourn. “What should I do about my mum? She fainted,” Lydia said calmly. “Did she hit her head?” The woman on the other line asked. “No, it seems she just crumpled down. She’s breathing,” Lydia answered. The woman told her to just make sure she had a clear airway, and stay with her father, that help was two minutes away, and her mother would likely come to shortly. Mr. Bennet managed to croak out a joke as they waited — “Your poor mother has been waiting years to have a good faint. She’ll only be sorry that she was unconscious and couldn’t enjoy it properly.” Later Lydia told Lizzie that she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience—she’d been as calm as if she’d been watching the whole thing on television. Lizzie squeezed her littlest sister tightly. “You saved them, Lyddie. You’re our hero.” 

Lizzie and Norah came to stay for a few weeks. It was winter, gray and dreary and Lizzie was the daughter who had the most time, as it was her off season. All of the bedrooms at Longbourn were empty now. Lydia and Kitty shared a flat in Dalston; their wedding beauty business was thriving. Lydia turned out to be a master of marketing, and Kitty’s beautiful sketches were the thing that set them apart. She always gifted the sketches that the brides chose to go with. Mary was now based in Leeds, working at a non-profit that helped refugees settle in and access services. She was also unsuccessfully attempting to hide her sexual relationship with her “roommate” Caitlin. Even Mrs. Bennet was puzzled as to why Mary just wouldn’t call it what it was. “It’s not like I’ve never met a lesbian before,” she’d told Lizzie and Jane. “In fact, I’m almost positive Jeannie Long’s youngest is gay.” 

The doctors told Mr. Bennet he was lucky, and that it was a “mild” heart attack, but changes were still needed. Charlie and Will moved a bed down to Mr. Bennet’s office so he wouldn’t have to take the stairs for the first few weeks. Mr. Bennet wondered why he hadn’t done that years ago — so convenient, so quiet. He was given medications, which Lizzie meticulously counted out into day of the week pill organizers, and after a week trained her mother on the task. Lizzie was satisfied at Mrs. Bennet’s performance. Mr. Bennet had fallen off his habit of walking the fields of Longbourn, but now Lizzie insisted. Every morning Lizzie strapped Norah into her snowsuit and she and Mr. Bennet followed the three and a half year old’s haphazard steps around the fields. Not far at first, but every day they went just a little further. Mrs. Bennet launched a full scale attack on the kitchen and made plans for heart-healthier meals. All red meat was banished. “Special occasions only, Tom,” she said, wagging a finger at him. 

Will came and stayed for the weekends while Lizzie and Norah were at Longbourn. The last weekend he came to stay, Lizzie put Norah to bed in Mary’s old room, and came to lay down beside Will in her old bedroom, where she finally broke into sobs that wracked her body. She wept into a pillow so as to not wake Norah across the hall, nor Mrs. Bennet in her room two doors down. Will spooned her, gently stroking her arm, letting her cry it out. After a while, her sobs petered out into sniffles. Will went to the bathroom and brought back a damp flannel for her face. Lizzie stood up to take it from him. She held the cool cloth to her puffy face for a few moments, and then wiped away the tears and the snot. “I need you,” she said helplessly, lifting her arms into a little shrug. 

Will undressed her as though she was a precious, breakable child and led her to the bed. He entered her gently, and for the first time in weeks, Lizzie felt her body relax completely. Their coupling was efficient and sweet, everything she needed. Lizzie came quickly with a sharp cry that hurt her throat after all the sobbing. Will came and kissed her eyes gently. He grabbed a nightshirt for her and pulled on his own pyjama bottoms. He spooned her again and she fell into a sleep that seemed deep as the grave. She woke up feeling new. 

**EIGHT**

When Lizzie missed her period, she barely noticed it. Norah was in nursery school and Lizzie had a huge project in the works at a park being renovated in South London. She felt she was always on the run between home and work lately. She tried to remember to track her cycle in an app on her phone, but she never did it. Instead she was left trying to remember details of the last time she’d had her period. She believed it must have been two months back, because she and Will had gone out to a romantic dinner and they’d had to adapt in bed that night when she realized she’d begun her cycle that day. 

She went and bought a test at the pharmacy after dropping Norah. In the privacy of the WC in her office, Lizzie peed on the stick — something she hadn’t done since before they’d gone to the doctor to try to get pregnant with Norah. She could barely stand to wait the 60 seconds. She remembered the torture of home test after home test in the early days, of the ovulation sticks that eventually pointed the way to the problem. Lizzie washed her hands and left the test on the sink. She paced around the greenhouse, forcing herself to check on an order of plants intended for the park project. Eventually she allowed herself to go back into the WC. She saw two lines. She checked the box to make sure that it was meant to be two lines for a pregnancy. 

She was pregnant. She was 38, and an irregular ovulator. This was a statistical miracle. 

Lizzie put the stick back in the box, and tucked the box deep into her purse. She called her gynaecologist and set up an appointment. She texted Will and asked what time he’d be home that night. 

Will felt a lot less nervous about this pregnancy, which was good, because Lizzie had never experienced horniness like this in her life. She wondered if this was how teenage boys felt: overwhelmed by the desire to fuck at the drop of a hat. Her bump started showing at three months — she was bigger with this baby than with Norah at the same milestones. Mrs. Bennet insisted she was “carrying high” which meant it was to be a boy. They’d enjoyed being surprised with Norah, so they would be surprised by this little person, too. The baby was healthy, Lizzie was healthy, and Norah was happy and excited. That was all Will cared about. 

One night after a particularly spirited show from Norah, claiming a wide variety of reasons why she couldn’t possibly go to sleep, Will came into their bedroom exhausted. Lizzie had worn a silky little nightie that skimmed over her bump and left her hair out of its customary night bun. Will took one look at her and said, “Darling, you’re beautiful. But if I don’t sleep, I’m going to die. Seriously.” 

Lizzie flopped her head back down on the bed in frustration. She knew how tired Will had been this week — he had a big project in St. Albans, and the commute combined with the frustrating client had been wearing on him. He hadn’t been able to get in a run all week and had been sleeping poorly. “Well, come to bed, my poor darling,” she said. Will pulled off his t-shirt and burrowed in under the covers. “Thank you for understanding, Lizzie,” he yawned. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Maybe in the morning,” she said distractedly. “Listen, though...I do need to come. I’m at threat level orange over here. Do you care if I take care of myself while you’re drifting off?” 

“No, no. Do what you gotta do.” Will reached over and turned off his light, and Lizzie reached into her bedside drawer. She pulled out a little vibrating toy that she’d won during a game at Kitty’s hen party a few months back, right before Lizzie found out she was pregnant. Lizzie had only tried the thing once — it was tiny and had little pointy ears like a rabbit. The ears were meant to go on either side of a clit. It had seemed okay the time she used it, and it would have to do now. 

Lizzie turned the thing on and realized there was a discreet button on the side that adjusted the vibrations and speed. She spread some of her wetness against her clit and brought the thing down. This had apparently been the missing piece of information she’d need to take the toy from “okay” to “mind-blowing”. She let out a sharp gasp. 

“Are you okay?” Will asked in alarm, turning over. “What’s that noise? Oh…” He watched Lizzie’s face. Her mouth was open as if in shock, as if giving a silent yell, and Will could see her arm moving slightly under the blanket. “It’s that good, huh?” All Lizzie could do was nod. 

Will could feel himself hardening, despite his tiredness. He reached over to Lizzie, lightly pinching a nipple through her nightie. 

“Oh, no,” she said in her teasing voice. “You need your rest, darling. Go to sleep.” 

Will roared and lunged playfully at her. The toy got lost somewhere in the sheets as their bodies joined together laughing. 

**NINE**

Will had decided he needed a sabbatical of a couple of months. He’d received a contract to write a book about historical architecture and its renovation. He asked Lizzie if she’d mind spending the autumn through New Year’s Day at Pemberley. Will felt he could work there, and they’d have time to be a family. Mr. and Mrs. Bell also finally announced their retirement, and Will wanted a chance to hire new caretakers and train them while he was available on site for a consistent period of time. Lizzie agreed to the plan and delegated the wrapping up of outstanding autumn projects to her team. Will asked his cousin Richard to house sit the townhouse in London. Richard had finally made the move from Thailand back to England, and was looking for a place to buy in town. They arranged for Norah to temporarily attend school in Lambton, and quickly set up a nursery for baby Thomas, who had just turned one. 

Lizzie wound down the season with her staff just a bit early, and by early October, the Darcys were installed at Pemberley. It had been rare for Will’s family to spend more than a few months at a time at the estate. He remembered month-long stretches with his parents in the summer, and they’d had Christmas every year there until his parents’ deaths. One fine October day, Will was showing Norah how to fish in the trout stream while Lizzie read on a blanket nearby, with Thomas conked out next to her in his pram. Norah was engrossed with the colourful lures in the tackle box, and Will walked over a few steps upstream to speak softly to Lizzie, so as not to scare the fish nor wake Thomas. “Darling,” he said. “What do you think about a big family party here at Pemberley for Christmas?” 

Lizzie looked up from her book. “Who are you and what have you done with Will Darcy?” 

“I’m serious,” he said smiling. 

“What made you think of it?” she asked, closing her book and standing up to come stand near the water with him. 

Will reached out and grabbed her hand lightly. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just remembering being here with my own parents, and how special Christmas was here. We’d sometimes invite the deBourghs and Fitzwilliams, along with my mother’s cousins. Sometimes even family friends would come. It would just be special to do that for Norah and Thomas. They could have their cousins here. We haven’t seen Kitty and Ravi’s baby since June. And you know Norah’s obsessed with Calum and Abby.” 

Lizzie paused, and then her smile slowly lit up her face. “Would you really invite everybody?” 

“I’m not an ogre!” 

“No, I know! But you’re an introvert. That’s a lot of people.” She nestled herself against his side and they watched Norah splash around in the shallows. “But I’d love it, Will. I really would.” 

“Okay, when we get back up to the house, let’s sketch out a plan.” Will squeezed her to him and kissed the top of her head. 

They invited everybody, and everybody accepted. Lizzie felt a small thrum of panic when she realized how many people that would be, and that they would be hosting without Mrs. Bell’s help. Will and Mrs. Bell realized it was the perfect opportunity, though. What better time to train the Bells’ replacements? Their successor turned out to be a former London innkeeper in his 50s who’d had enough of city life. Jonathan Greene was delighted to return to northern England, and his husband Arthur was excited to be able to devote more time to painting and linocut. The position paid well, and the opportunity to live in the caretaker’s wing at Pemberley was hard to top. Mr. and Mrs. Bell and Will spent time training Jonathan on security, working with the small team on the Pemberley Foundation who ran summer tours, and talked about how to prepare the manor for guests, and the owners’ visits. Lizzie suggested that Arthur Greene be given use of the heated carriage house as an artist’s studio, and in that moment, Jonathan’s devotion to the Darcys was sealed. When Mr. and Mrs. Bell were out of earshot, Jonathan made a few subtle suggestions that proved his perspective and new set of eyes very valuable. 

Will and Lizzie spent November with great pleasure. Will accomplished a solid first draft and asked Mr. Bennet to take a look at it. It was sent back with suggestions and questions in Mr. Bennet’s infamous red pencil, but the feedback was insightful, and Will settled in for some extensive revisions before sending it off to his editor. Lizzie strapped Thomas into his backpack and Norah into her first pair of little hiking boots and took the children to the Peaks for long walks. Norah delighted Lizzie to no end with her rough and tumble ways — she was fearless. She’d pick up any bug, climb any tree, walk off any scrape. Lizzie knew that she might be less inclined to admire fearlessness in a teenager, but for now, she enjoyed what she was seeing from her little daughter. 

Thomas, named for Mr. Bennet, was quiet and observant. He loved nothing more but to be near Norah, to watch what she did and consider it, but not necessarily copy it. Norah was gentleness itself with her Tommy. While Norah tore about the hiking path like a tornado, exclaiming over the sound of a new bird, or bringing back a strange rock to show Mummy and Tommy, Lizzie explained the view to Thomas in a gentle monologue. “That sound you hear is a singing bird, called a thrush. This is one of mummy’s favorite trees, a Sessile Oak. See how pretty the moss is?” Thomas would occasionally point, and Lizzie would tell him about whatever she fancied he asked about. Darling boy, quiet like his father. 

In early December, Jonathan and the Darcys began to prepare. The guest rooms had to be prepared. Georgie and Aidan would of course stay in the family wing, in Georgie’s room. Will and Lizzie had kept to Will’s old bedroom, and therefore they could offer the master suite to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. The rooms in the manor beyond needed to be aired out and made up, and Jonathan worked with the cleaning service to get everything just so. Company would begin arriving five days before Christmas and leave after Boxing Day, and the amount of food it would take seemed insane to Lizzie. Still, she took pleasure in planning with Jonathan and the caterers who would come three times a day to prepare food for the guests. Lizzie felt a small pang of guilt about not cooking on Christmas Day, about pulling the cooks away from their families, but Will told her that it was her holiday, too, and that she should enjoy it and leave it to the professionals to feed the dozens of guests that were descending upon them. Lizzie couldn’t argue with that. 

The Bingleys were the first to arrive, and Norah excitedly showed them the game of vortex spinners that Auntie Georgie had shown her once. Charlie enthusiastically supervised the game for the next two hours. Next were Mary and her finally acknowledged girlfriend, soon to be wife, Caitlin. Will showed Mary to the library where she stayed until joined by Mr. Bennet. The two of them explored the shelves for hours. Mrs. Bennet and Caitlin looked at the wedding board Caitlin had made on Pinterest for nearly as many hours and talked excitedly about plans. Ravi and Kitty showed up with baby Cora and Lydia, who happily bounced Cora around while Ravi and Kitty took a nap. Georgie and Aidan came just before dark, and they sat down to a loud family dinner. The Gardiners were staying at their own house below in Lambton, but came by for dinner that night. Anne and Aunt Catherine didn’t come until the next morning. Anne’s little boy Henry was exuberant at the sight of Norah, and when Charlie offered to lead a nature hike for the kids, Anne looked over at him gratefully. Henry had been bouncing off the walls ever since he learned about Christmas at Pemberley, and Will knew he’d done the right thing. That they’d have to do it every year from there on out. 

Richard took the train up, intending to ride back down with the Darcys. Lizzie drove down to pick him up. Lydia rode along, wanting to pick something up at the pharmacy. Lizzie told her to run on over, that she’d be waiting at the car for Richard, whose train would be in any minute. Lizzie stood leaning against the car hood, stretching out a bit and waiting. When she saw Richard walk through the doors of the station, she jogged up to him and he swung her off the ground into a bear hug. “I’ve not had any luck finding a place,” he told her. “Any chance your sister could help me?” 

“Help you with what?” Lydia said, walking up behind him. Richard turned away from Lizzie to look at the voice and stopped dead in his tracks. “Uh, your sister Jane. She’s an estate agent still, right? I’m looking to buy in London.” 

“Oh!” Lydia’s cheeks grew pink. “Sorry, I thought you meant me. I’m Lizzie’s youngest sister. I don’t know if you remember me.” _Holy shit, is Lydia Bennet actually blushing?_ Lizzie watched her sister and Richard with great interest, but knew it was imperative to play it cool. She would have to browbeat her mother to do the same. 

“Richard, you’ve met Lydia before, haven’t you? You must not have seen each other since our wedding, now that I think of it!” 

“I think you’re right, Lizzie,” said Richard. “I was based in Thailand until recently, I’ve just moved back to London. I was working in real estate and other investments, but I’m back now,” he said in a jumbled sounding rush. _Oh, yeah,_ Lizzie thought. It’s hard for men with Fitzwilliam blood to resist Bennet women. Richard was 40, just a year older than Lizzie. Lydia was 32. Not an absurd age difference where there was real love and affection. 

“You should ask Lydia about London. She’s much more in tune with it than I ever was. I waltzed right into the house in Kensington, never had to look around for a place on my own. Lyddie, you’ve been in south London for a while now. What’s your favorite neighbourhood these days?” Lizzie kept her voice casual and light, and moved toward the car. 

Christmas passed happily. Richard and Lydia got to know each other a bit and it was clear they were smitten. Will and Anne marveled over Richard’s being so tongue-tied around a girl. Mrs. Bennet was so focused on Mary and Caitlin’s wedding that she laid off Lydia, and all the other Bennet girls merely wriggled their eyebrows at each other when nobody else was looking. There were nights of mulled wine. Mrs. Bennet taught the children how to make her famous Christmas Cookies, the recipes she’d grown up making in the States. Georgie organized hikes in the Peaks, and Charlie led poker tournaments at which he inevitably lost, but enjoyed nonetheless. Lady Catherine engaged Mr. Bennet in long discussions about the merits of and negatives of the re-emergence of the mid-century modern aesthetic. Will and Uncle Edward played game after game of chess, and Aunt Maggie cozied up with tea and had good long chats with her two favourite nieces. The children were nearly drunk with the joy of having each other to play with and slept like the dead at night. 

On Christmas Eve, Lizzie went to brush her teeth and wash her face before bed and came back out to Will standing in the dark, looking out the window. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, and looked over his shoulder out onto the vast snow dusted lawn in the moonlight. “This was a brilliant idea, Will. It’s been such a happy time for all of us. Thank you for thinking of it.” 

“You’ve been a great hostess, love. I’m glad we’ve done it. I think we’ll have to do it again. Probably every year. Did you see how happy the kids were? Even Thomas is a little bit wilder. It’s good for him to see his cousins.” 

“There’s only one downside,” Lizzie said. “I’ve hardly gotten to see you alone.” 

“That is a pretty serious impediment,” Will said, turning around to face her. He leaned down and kissed her neck. 

“How are you, darling? Are you tired?” Lizzie purred into his ear as he worked her neck. 

“No, not at all. In fact, I have this surge of energy. It must be the holiday spirit taking hold of me.” 

“Oh, good. Because I do have a little Christmas present for you. I wasn’t sure when to give it to you. Just give me a moment?” 

“Of course,” said Will. He sat down in an armchair near the window, and watched as Lizzie threw him a look over her shoulder and disappeared into the bathroom again. Will stretched his limbs and looked out the window, idly stroking himself through his pyjama bottoms, waiting to see what his clever wife had come up with. 

Lizzie came out of the bathroom in a green silk kimono. She’d brushed her hair until it shone and had gathered it into a low ponytail held with a wide red satin ribbon draped over her shoulder. It also seemed she was wearing dark red lipstick. Will reached over to turn on the table lamp next to the chair. He let out a quiet wolf whistle. “Hello, Mrs. Darcy.” 

Lizzie didn’t say anything. She only looked him in the eye. She had that saucy look on her face, giving nothing away. Will felt himself stiffen a bit more. “Did you say you had a present for me, Madam?” 

Lizzie merely nodded and handed him one end of the tie holding her kimono closed. Will pulled it slowly and let the robe fall open. Underneath she wore no bra. Her nipples were hard in the cool air of the room. Moving his eyes lower, and pushing the folds of the robe aside, Will took a good look at her knickers. They were the same Christmas red as the ribbon in her hair. They sat low, just covering her monds. But they were held up by a complex and extravagant system of tied bows. Lizzie knew he loved bows. Will drew in a breath and let it huff out along with the words, “My, God, woman. Where did you get these?” 

“Father Christmas dropped them off for me,” she said in that voice of hers. 

“Father Christmas is a bit pervy, isn’t he? I need to write him a thank you note.” Will stood and slid the robe from Lizzie’s shoulders and knelt down in front of her to examine his present. A wide swath of ribbon ran diagonally across her lower abdomen and was tied above her hip. The other hip had a smaller ribbon of thinner fabric that cut into Lizzie’s flesh in a pleasing way. The crotch of the knickers were pure stretchy lace, and Will brought his mouth there first, making her groan. He moved the fabric out of the way and brought his tongue to her clit, flicking and laving until she shuddered and cried out. 

“Do you want more, Mrs. Darcy?” 

“Mmm-hmm.” 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to take me against that window ledge.” 

“What if we’re seen?” He asked in a low, hungry voice. 

“It’s late. Nobody’s about,” she said in a whine. 

“Well, it’s your Christmas, too, Mrs. Darcy.” Will led her to the window ledge and finally unwrapped the garment. Lizzie sighed as his hands freed her. Will pulled the knickers off of his wife and turned her to face the window. He dropped his bottoms and trunks and positioned Lizzie to spread her legs and cant her bum in the air. He ran the tip of his cock along her wet slit to make himself ready for her. Then he inserted himself into her cunt and began to thrust hard and fast. “Too much?” He asked. 

“Noooo,” Lizzie groaned. “More, more.” And her husband obliged. 

**TEN**

Lizzie forgot that it was Fancy Dress Day at Norah’s school tomorrow. Lizzie would have bet £50 that they’d just had Fancy Dress Day, but Norah told her, “No, that was Superhero Day.” Norah said she wanted to dress like Aunt Mary on her wedding day. Norah had been fascinated by Aunt Mary’s suit. On short notice, Lizzie figured they could take a black cardigan, pants, and school Oxford and make it look like a suit. Norah also asked if she could borrow Lizzie’s wedding ring to complete the look. “Ah, no,” Lizzie informed her. “But look in this jewellery box -- maybe you’ll find something.” 

Will and Georgie were meeting with the Pemberley Foundation coordinators that night, so Lizzie did all the dinner and bedtime duties. Norah had just recently started reading by herself before bed, not joining Lizzie and Thomas for their bedtime stories. At first it broke Lizzie’s heart just a bit -- her beautiful baby girl was growing up. On the other hand, Lizzie remembered the thrill of choosing her own books, of staying up with a torch to read them after being scolded to “go to sleep already!” She and Norah took weekly trips to the bookshop around the corner while Will and Thomas played Legos or ran around in the park down the road from their place. Lizzie and Norah were bonded in their intense love of reading, and their possessiveness over characters and stories they loved. 

Lizzie left Norah reading the latest book in her current favourite series, something about mermaids, and took Thomas for his bath. Thomas had just turned 4 and continued to surprise Lizzie with his seriousness and thoughtfulness. Where Norah was fierce and bold, Thomas was deliberate and precise. Their son’s thought processes made perfect sense to Will, and Lizzie knew when father and son were together, she was in the presence of soul mates. Thomas would ask Will questions -- never in the stream of consciousness style of Norah or their nieces and nephews, but after he’d given serious consideration to the answer he’d just been given. Will would answer Thomas seriously, never condescendingly. With Lizzie, Thomas was often less talkative. It was Lizzie, though, that Thomas went to for hugs and comfort. When they read on the couch, or watched telly, Thomas would still move to sit on her lap and rest his head against her chest. 

Lizzie bathed Thomas, singing little nonsense songs to him, and dried him off and got him into pyjamas. They read three books together (three was the rule, or they’d be there all night) and Lizzie switched on the little nightlight by Thomas’ bedside. She brushed his slightly damp hair chestnut hair back from his forehead and leaned down to kiss him. Thomas put his arms around her neck and they hugged for a few moments. Lizzie wasn’t prone to bouts of sentimentality, but tears pricked her eyes for a moment at the feel of his little arms. This was all going too fast. “Goodnight, my sweet boy,” she whispered. “See you in the morning.” Thomas settled back onto his pillow and pulled the light blanket up to his chin. 

Lizzie walked over to Norah’s door and knocked, sticking her head in. “Thirty more minutes, Norah-bug.” Norah nodded, not looking up, her mouth slack as she made her way through a clearly gripping scene in the story of the crime-fighting mermaids, or whatever they were. 

Lizzie went downstairs and loaded the dishwasher with that evening’s mess. She checked the time and opened her laptop to respond to a few work emails. She checked the refrigerator and added a few things to the grocery list. She saw half an hour had passed and went up to see how hard she’d have to argue with Norah to put her book away and go to sleep. Occasionally Lizzie had to resort to taking Norah’s current read away for the evening, only to restore it to her in the morning. She never did this on the weekends, of course. Lizzie respected a girl’s relationship to novels. 

After both children were asleep (the book did not have to be confiscated, but it was because Norah had begged for ten more minutes to finish it, which Lizzie granted), Lizzie hopped in the shower. When she turned off the water and opened the glass door, Will called to her from the bedroom. She put on her robe and walked out, toweling her hair. “How’d the meeting go, love?” she asked, and Will told her about a new website the coordinators wished to build, how it should have better ecommerce functionality for ticket sales, what they’d need to communicate to Jonathan Greene. Lizzie brushed her hair and listened, letting him share all the important nothings of the day. He undressed and asked her about her day and Lizzie told him all of her important nothings. She pulled on her pyjamas and Will went to brush his teeth. “Oh, shit,” she said, suddenly remembering. “Will, have you got any black bow ties?” 

“Hmmm?” he asked through a mouthful of toothpaste. 

“Norah has another freaking school dress up day tomorrow. I swear there’s one every week. It’s Fancy Dress and she wants to go as Aunt Mary on her wedding day.” 

Will laughed and spit out his toothpaste into the sink. “Good. She can lead the conversation on gender performativity at lunch. I think I might have kept the bowtie from standing up for Richard and Lydia’s wedding. Try the box on the shelf above my dresser.” 

Lizzie went into his closet and breathed in the smell of her husband’s clothes: cedar and the faint trace of his aftershave. She scanned the shelves for a shoe box, but only found a battered navy box on the bottom of his shoe rack. She picked it up and pulled off the lid. There were old notes Lizzie had written to Will on Post-its, a black and white photo strip of pictures they’d taken at somebody’s wedding (Lizzie remembered that Will had been pleasingly drunk and handsy that night), the coiled red ribbon she’d worn in her hair a few Christmases back. There was a ferry ticket from their honeymoon in Lake Como. She turned it over and in Will’s blocky print, she read the words “Red sundress, no bra, hair in a ponytail. Never forget this sight.” Lizzie examined object after object, smiling as she remembered some, marveling as she tried to remember others. “Did you find it?” Will asked, coming into the closet, pulling a t-shirt over his head. Lizzie looked up from the box in her lap, and shook her head, but smiled at him. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up a small opaque wax envelope. Will flushed red. 

Lizzie looked up and saw his expression. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone through your things. It was the only shoebox I could find. Then once I started, I couldn’t stop.” 

“I just remembered -- I tucked the bowtie in with my handkerchiefs,” he said, clearing his throat. He walked over to a small drawer and reached into the back. He pulled out a black bow tie and draped it over the doorknob, then sat down on the floor next to Lizzie. 

“I’m sorry,” she said again. 

“No! Don’t be sorry. I’m just a little embarrassed. You know that I’m the sentimental one in our relationship. It’s not like this box would exist without you. You can look at it.” 

Lizzie gave him a loving look and small smile and picked up the wax envelope again. She pulled out a pressed sprig of flattened, yellowed Baby’s Breath. “What is this?” she asked again. 

Will looked sheepish. “Do you remember the first night we...At Jane and Charlie’s wedding reception?” 

“Yes,” she said, still waiting. 

“Do you remember how you had Baby’s Breath tucked into your hair?” 

Lizzie paused and her eyes focused on a point on the opposite wall. “Oh, yeah! Kitty tucked little bits of it into Jane’s and my hair.” 

“This fell out while we were making love. I remember I noticed it on the ground after and I tucked it into my pocket. I just didn’t want to forget anything about that night. I think I told you it was the happiest day of my life...That’s still true.” 

“Even more than the children being born?”

“If that night hadn’t happened, no other good thing would have happened. Plus, I got to have sex with you on top. So it’s still number one, no offense to the children,” Will said, and Lizzie laughed. 

She placed the keepsakes back in the box and stood up to put it back in its place on the shelf. Lizzie held out her hand to Will and he stood up. “Come on,” Lizzie said, leading him to the bed. “I’ll give you a repeat performance,” and Will followed, laughing at his good luck at having married so well. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mega Spoilers for this work, but hopefully if you're reading this, you've already read Part 2 of "Worthy of Being Pleased" or you are HERE for the spoilers! 
> 
> * Jane and Charlie have two children -- Calum is the firstborn, and Abigail is the second. They are stupidly happy, and while Charlie has made up with Caroline, they rarely see her. We never find out what happens to Caroline in this work. If I had to guess, she becomes a competitive Mummy Blogger. (No offense to Mummy bloggers -- I just mean she's the jerky kind.)
> 
> * Lizzie and Will have trouble getting pregnant at first and have to get some reproductive assistance. Their first child is Norah, a little explorer like her Mum, with Lizzie's eyes and adventurous spirit. A few years later (4 to be specific), they get a surprise without trying: Thomas, who is named for Mr. Bennet. Thomas is a thoughtful boy who adores Norah, but is much more reserved, like his father sometimes comes across to those who don't know him well. Thomas adores his mother fiercely, and asks Will millions of questions as they obsess over Legos.
> 
> * Mary moves to Leeds to work at a non-profit that helps refugees. She eventually gets the nerve to come out to her family, and admit that Caitlin, her roommate, is really her girlfriend. Duh, the Bennets all say. Caitlin is adored by all, but especially Mrs. Bennet, who obsesses over wedding details with her.
> 
> * Mr. Bennet has a cardiac episode, but recovers. Lydia is the one who calls 999. Mrs. Bennet learns how to count pills and is very strict about diet. 
> 
> * Kitty marries a man named Ravi and they have one little daughter, Cora. The wedding beauty business she shares with Lydia thrives.
> 
> * Anne does not have any luck dating, but wants to have a child. She decides to use a sperm donor and is incredibly happy about having a child -- a little boy named Henry. Lady Catherine comes around.
> 
> * Richard Fitzwilliam FINALLY moves back from Thailand. He meets Lydia Bennet again at Christmas at Pemberley and sparks fly for both of them. Despite the 8 year age difference, Lydia and Richard eventually marry and make a happy couple.
> 
> * Will and Lizzie's love for each other weathers all storms and is based on the things Jane Austen tells us matter: love, gratitude, and esteem. It doesn't hurt that they're still into each other after all these years.


End file.
